Fate Unveiled
by trinity1424
Summary: Bound by blood, and allied by Fate, Harry and Draco are engulfed deeper in the battle against evil, as their sixth year aproaches. As they struggle to come to terms with their past and their future, a deep-rooted friendship grows...thus completing the des
1. Default Chapter

FATE UNVEILED by Trinity  
  
Summary: Bound by blood and allied by Fate, Harry and Draco are engulfed deeper in the battle against evil, as their sixth year approaches. As they struggle to come to terms with their past and their future, a deep-rooted friendship grows...thus completing the designs of Fate. ***NOT SLASH***  
  
Prologue:  
  
The lake twinkled in the setting sun, scattering the golden light into the twilight. Small blue birds twittered on the luscious green trees of summer- the sound of hope, purity and innocence.  
  
A tentacle rose, splashing the gold-tinted waters into the fresh air of dusk. In the dark green horizon of the Forbidden Forest, loomed a crimson sun- slowly hiding behind the depth of the greenery.  
  
The Hogwarts' grounds were a picture of serene beauty. But in that beauty was something sinister...and terrible. On the clarity of the sparkling waters, danced the dark shadows of the magnificent castle. In the green forest, rose a haunted mist carrying the whispers of the ongoing war of the magical world. In the songs of the sweet birds was a hint of the broken dreams and lost hope of the innocent. The sparkling sun glowed with a red light.  
  
Blood red...like the stain found on battlefields...blood of many brave warriors who gave their lives for a special cause...for freedom.  
  
Nature reflected the upcoming horror and bloodshed; the ongoing terror and panic, and the inevitable sacrifice of two lives to end it all-the sacrifice of two of the greatest wizards of the time!  
  
Dumbledore looked away and sighed. The weight of the magical world, the weight of lives and hopes and dreams, the weight of choices, all lay on his shoulders.  
  
He had made a choice long ago- a choice which led him down the path of greatness, power, responsibility, and...guilt. He did not blame anyone. It had been his choice and his choice alone. He had wanted this leadership and accepted all the burdens which came with it....even the guilt.  
  
He was lucky in a way. He had had the privilege to choose. Others, like Draco and Harry, did not. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had just turned sixteen. It was almost time-time for him to shift the weight of the world to their shoulders...their inexperienced and childish shoulders. They were only children still...children who deserved to laugh and play, and not bear the guilt of stolen lives and broken dreams.  
  
He sighed again. He wished there was another way, but there wasn't. Suddenly a bright red ball of fire appeared in front of him. It uttered a cry and burst into a dazzling display of light.... Fawkes' signal.  
  
It was time!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry had turned sixteen. It was almost time for Dumbledore to hit him with the final blow of reality....and Fate. The Fates' were twisted and ironic. They were heartless and ruthless. He had realized this a long time ago.  
  
WHY?  
  
He asked for the millionth time. Why did the Fates' have to choose Harry? Why did they have to choose him to play in their little game? Why not someone else? Anyone else. Anyone but Harry-his best friend's son.  
  
His son...  
  
He could accept it. He could try and understand it, if there was a reason or meaning for it, but there wasn't. Everyone kept saying it was for the greater good...to rid the world of evil. But what do they know? To them this is just a show. A show where other people fight, other people make sacrifices, other people die. Not them. Never them. They just watch.  
  
He knew he was not being reasonable...he knew that it wasn't the people's fault....it wasn't anyone's fault but Fate's...By a whim of the Fates Voldemort had chosen Harry...but he still could not accept the fact....he still could not come to terms with it....why? Because he was one of the few who had to suffer. This wasn't for the greater good. It was just for Fate's pleasure- a pleasure for which the price was too high...innocence, happiness, blood and life.  
  
Harry's life...his last link to a friendship...a friendship that had been ripped away from him by Fate. His last link to the fallen Marauders. His last link to family.  
  
Any moment now, the signal would come and he would have to go and get Harry....any minute now....  
  
Suddenly Fawkes appeared in a whirl of colours, and burst into flames. Remus stood up...NOW!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Snape Manor stood silent, dark and still. Lifeless. Lifeless except for the only person there...Severus Snape, who lay watching the dance of candle lights on the marble walls and pondering the fate of his godson...Draco Malfoy. It wasn't like he really liked the Malfoys. There was not a single family in the whole magical world worse than the Malfoys. But during the time when he was acting as a spy for Dumbledore, on the Dark Lord, he had to befriend Lucius Malfoy...it was one of the many precautions he took while acting as a spy...and it helped to keep him alive, and relatively safe from the Dark Lord's wrath, as Lucius was the Dark Lord's right-hand man.  
  
Now Severus turned his thoughts to Draco...he had a soft spot for the boy. No matter how much he disliked the father, he could not fell the same towards the child. He loved Draco like a son. He could not bear to see Draco suffer, but he knew that nothing he did or could do could save Draco from Fate. Draco would have to do what he was meant to, but Severus would also do whatever he could to help Draco...or else he would die trying.  
  
He felt bad for Draco, and that pity turned to love as he got to know the child better...the poor child was so blinded by his parents! They made him believe that his father was some sort of hero...they made him believe that supporting Voldemort was the most important thing in the world...the child never had any way of knowing how wrong he was to idolize his father like that. Luckily as the boy grew older and interacted with people outside his father's "friend" circle at Hogwarts, he began to understand that his father was not a hero, but a traitor to the whole magical world.  
  
The child's life brought back memories of his own life, his own childhood...memories that he tried really hard to forget. At least he had been able to break away from his father's oppressive grip...he meant to help Draco do the same...he meant to make Draco break free from his father's beliefs and also help him become strong enough to face his father's sins. Now that Lucius and Nacissa were gone, it would be relatively easy to do.  
  
He didn't care about that Potter boy with his over inflated ego. He hated that boy and his father too. Hateful creatures! He half-wished that Potter would die while fighting Voldemort........as long as Draco was safe, nothing else mattered.  
  
Suddenly the glow of the candle lights became brighter. A small ball floated in front of his face. He realized that the ball was burning. Fawkes! The time had come...he got up and set off at once.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * 


	2. The Revelation

Chapter 1: The Revelation  
  
The moon, silent and tranquil glowed in a mystical light against the dark, warm summer sky. Shadows danced on the calm, watery surface of the lake, reflecting a play of lights on the walls of the ancient castle. The tree tops gently swayed in a cool fleeting breeze, leaving a silent rattle of branches in its wake. Even the Forbidden Forest in its unmanageable wilderness was relatively quiet tonight.  
  
As Dumbledore looked down upon the calmness, from his office window, he inwardly shivered. Nature was calm in it's tangibility, but not peaceful in it's ambiance. There was a tensed serenity invoked by great magical upheaval, like the forced tranquility of the eye of a storm.  
  
No one had witnessed the immense disturbance in the magical equilibrium or it's unequal distribution, concentrating on two specific units. But they were bound to feel the atmospherical turmoil...it had begun  
  
The beginning of a legend.  
  
The beginning of the sacrifice.  
  
The beginning of the end...  
  
In some morbid fascination, the Fates would be very amused tonight...  
  
*  
  
The door opened and four people entered Dumbledore's office, and pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up, and his eyes locked on a pair of green eyes. These were illuminated with an ethereal light as usual, but now there was something more...and something less. The naivety and childlike wonder was not there anymore. Dumbledore searched his eyes for it. But it was gone. Instead there was a hard maturity that can only be gained with lost innocence.  
  
He shifted his gaze to Draco. What he saw did not surprise him...much. He knew that Draco never had any naïve innocence; his childhood had been robbed from him by his parents, and now by the people of the magical world. His childhood had been ripped away from him even earlier than it had been from Harry...but he did not expect the cold maturity to be reflected in these gray eyes, which at the moment held a hard, irritated look.  
  
Harry and Draco had both seen too much and had had to stand too much already. Everyone had limits...a line not meant to be crossed. Dumbledore just prayed that the line was not crossed tonight. If they were unable to stand it, it would be his undoing...and that of the world.  
  
Sighing he began...  
  
"How are you both? I know you must be very curious about why you have been brought here, and I will come to that presently. First tell me how you are feeling...do you feel...uh...different somehow?  
  
Harry started. What did Dumbledore mean? What was he trying to imply? Did he know what Harry was going through the whole of the last four hours....though it seemed like ages? Did he know that Harry's scar was nearly bursting just four hours ago? But how? Was Dumbledore expecting this? A million questions flashed through his mind. He had to tell Dumbledore. But...  
  
"No, not at all," lied Harry. He had to. No way was he going to admit his weakness in front of Draco Malfoy. He ran a hand through his hair, and shrugged "well, it was nothing...the scar just throbbed slightly and I felt a jolt...it was so small...I hardly felt it...but I do feel different now."  
  
Draco jerked out his haughty scrutiny of Dumbledore's office, his boredom vanishing and curiosity perked in an instant. Had Potter gone through the same thing as he had? Did the rambling old fool know about it? Did...A thousand questions reeled through his mind as he recalled the pain, the magic...and the power. Writhing in agony Draco had felt the call of the magic of the air he inhaled with every painful breath, the water in the goblet on his bedside table, the fire that flickered in his stone fireplace...he had felt the call from the elements...the universe...raw magic...he did not how it was possible but he had also felt the blood in his veins respond- reply to the call and accept what it had to offer.  
  
But he couldn't tell the senile git all this...so he just covered his discomfort with the skill that he specialized in- disdain.  
  
"Yeah yeah," sniggered Draco, "Little baby Potter's scar was hurting...oh!" He clutched his forehead in mockery and laughed. He rolled his eyes "Yeah Potter, you don't have to try and get the headmaster's pity by complaining about your stupid scar hurting...but yeah...I also felt a jolt...and now I feel different...but why do you care (he scowled)...like I have nothing better to talk about."  
  
Dumbledore smiled, but it was slightly tight-lipped. He knew this would be hard...at least he expected it to be and would be surprised if it was not, and now it seemed that Draco was trying to do everything in his power to make it harder. "Yes, I know that you are both curious, but before I begin I must impress upon you the importance and sensitive nature of what I am about to tell you,"  
  
Draco inclined his head to his left and Harry nodded. Interlacing his fingers on his desk, Dumbledore began to speak, "Sixteen years ago, I was out searching for a divination teacher. I found one living in some rooms above the Hog's Head. On interviewing her, it was quite clear to me, that she was not really a seer...."  
  
Harry frowned and interrupted him, "But I know all this remember? You already told me about her...and why does he have to know?" He jerked his head towards Draco.  
  
"Patience is a virtue, Harry," Dumbledore replied. Draco smirked. "Same goes to you Mr. Malfoy," and the smile on Draco's face was immediately replaced by a scowl.  
  
"So, as I was saying...The minute I spoke to her, I knew that she was not a real seer and so I turned to leave, when suddenly, I heard her speak up, in a harsh voice, totally different from her actual one. I realized then, that she was making a prophecy." Here he stopped and tapped the silver bowl, which rested on this table, and a white figure rose out of it. Harry recognized it to be the pensive, which he had used in the previous term while taking Occlumency lessons from Professor Snape. The white figure repeated the words which were engraved on his mind.  
  
She said "The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the dark lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have a power that the dark lord knows not...and either must to die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."  
  
Draco looked up at Dumbledore, his gray eyes betraying only mild curiosity...he had begun to understand that this was all about Harry...he said "This is about Potter isn't it? You mean that all this...about the Dark Lord...you mean this is all...Fate?" he smirked, "So Potter, you were always meant to die."  
  
Harry's face flushed slightly. But he replied in a calm and steady voice, "Of course I'm meant to die," Harry smirked. "You see, I'm not immortal; though with your over enlarged ego you certainly seem to think so of yourself."  
  
Draco's eyes sharpened, but his face remained impassive. He sneered and drawled, "Better start praying, Potter," With that he stood up and whipped out his wand. In an instant Harry was on his feet, his wand pointing directly at Draco's heart.  
  
Just as Harry and Draco opened their mouths to start a full-fledged duel, Dumbledore stood up and flicked his wand. The two boys were thrown off their feet. They landed with a thud on their chairs. Dumbledore inwardly sighed with relief. He hated to think what would happen if they had dueled with their untrained and uncontrolled powers. He looked up to see two pairs of eyes glaring at each other. He smiled. It was time to be the Headmaster.  
  
"Underage sorcery is prohibited by the law. And may I also impress upon you that dueling on Hogwarts grounds, especially in front of the Headmaster, is most definitely against school rules. Being in this school for the past five years, I expect both of you know this?" Still glaring at each other, Harry and Draco scowled. "Well, no harm done, so I'll just continue with my story..."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
In 358 A.D. Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw- the four greatest sorcerers in wizarding history were brought together by a common goal, a shared dream of training young witches and wizards. On this vision, Hogwarts was founded and the Fate of the world was sealed.  
  
Helga was a seer, and one fateful night she had a vision. In this vision, she saw a time far in the future. A time when an heir of Slytherin would rise, bringing chaos and anarchy into the magical world. Then two heroes will come forward to fight him- the heir of Gryffindor and the second heir of Slytheirn.  
  
Helga made a prophecy after her vision. She said "In the solstice will come a new power...born from the bone of the father, unknowingly provided, flesh of the servant, willingly given, and blood from the foe forcibly taken...the son, the master and the enemy will rise...Suppressed evil and dormant power shall awaken...covering the land in a shadow of darkness...when the will of people shall break, when all hope shall fail, two heroes will emerge...bound by blood and allied by fate they alone will stand against the enemy...they alone will be a match against him....one from the darkness and one from light, they will be the ultimate warriors.....and none will come after..."  
  
After the others learned of Helga's vision and prophecy, they all made a plan to help the two heroes. Rowena called upon the magic of the earth, the stars and the moon; she summoned the raw power of the universe and invoked ancient blood magic to cast a spell of her invention- the Dracenus Parcentium charm on Godric and Salazar. The effect of the charm takes place on the descendants of the person on whom the spell is cast. This charm allows the person to use raw magic. The charm would lie dormant until and unless the right heirs were born, in which case, it would then take effect. Thus the two descendants of Godric and Salazar would experience the effects.  
  
During this time, Salazar already had a daughter, whose bloodline later led to the birth of a boy with a muggle father, and a witch mother, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Brilliant in everything he did, and Head Boy in school, Tom studied dark arts after graduating, and later emerged as the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort.  
  
After the charm was performed, Slytherin had another child. This child's bloodline led, after many inter-marriages between pureblood families, to a pale skinned, flaxen haired boy. This boy was another brilliant student, like Tom, and with a special flair for potions.  
  
Gryffindor's line led to the birth of yet another boy. This boy, though with a noble and ancient magical heritage, was a half-blood through his muggle-born mother. Like the Slytherin heirs he had exceptional magical prowess and unyielding character; and like the second heir of Slytherin, due to many intermarriages between purebloods, also had Slytherin blood in his along with Gryffindor's  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Dumbledore stopped and looked at the tired and confused faces in front of him. Even with the obviousness of the situation, Harry and Draco did not seem to have understood the implications of his story. Dumbledore could pretend to be disappointed. He could lie and make himself believe that he wanted them to recognize the hints so that he did not have to be the one to hit them with the truth. But he wouldn't do that...couldn't do it...because he knew the truth. He knew that he wanted to postpone the realization as long as he could. He would even cancel it, were it in his power to do so. But alas, it was not.  
  
The power lay with the Fates and the Fates had decided.  
  
The blissful time of postponement had ended. The powers had been unleashed, and the revelation had to be made now...but maybe he could delay it a bit longer...one more night. They were tired now and if he carried on with this, they would not understand anything anyways.  
  
Dumbledore knew he was making excuses, but he didn't care. He would do it tomorrow. He flicked his wand and food appeared on his table. "Harry, Draco, you can finish your dinner here and go to sleep in the Gryffindor dormitory. I shall continue the story tomorrow."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
After Harry and Draco had left, Dumbledore turned to Snape and Remus. He said, "Remus, I think it would be better if you went back to the house. Wait for her to come, and then look after her till the time comes for her to come to school. She will arrive tomorrow at around 6:00 in the morning. I will await your owl." Remus nodded and left the room.  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore continued, "I think it is best if we start the training early tomorrow. Please send owls to Minerva, Flitwick, Poppy, Alastor, and Amelia. Remus will join us presently, and you are already here. Tomorrow morning I will tell them the rest of the story, and see how much they are able to grasp, and from their reactions we shall be able to tell how much help they will require. That is all for now Severus, I thank you for your help thus far and beyond." Snape turned to leave. "Oh and just one more thing...You will please do whatever you can to help Draco...at least to help him overcome the shock...because in his shocked state, it will be really hard for us to help him, and that could come to a disastrous end," Dumbledore added.  
  
"I will do my best Headmaster...you know I will...I have already expressed my feelings on this matter." Severus left the room.  
  
Dumbledore looked out of the window into the darkness outside...he thought of what had happened before, and what lay ahead. He felt a slight pang of guilt...almost as if it was his fault that he did not stop Tom before...he had suspected, but he had not acted on his suspicions. It was not his style to do so, and now he felt a slight regret for it...he made up his mind now...he would undo all of this...he would help these two innocent boys achieve victory over this darkness...he would do whatever he could to bring back the lost humanity...  
  
But it was in vain, and he knew that...these people expected others to die for them, and to protect them from the evil that was spreading even as he thought about it. They did not care if it was their lives pitted against those of two young children. They only cared about themselves and themselves alone. They were selfish and greedy. They wanted peace and happiness. At what price they did not care, as long as they did not have to pay it. They rejoiced at the losses of others, they basked in the glory of selfless sacrifices made by their heroes, as that generally meant something had been gained for them. And they romanticized when their heroes were broken and beaten-somehow tragic heroes appealed to them and gave pleasure to their twisted ignorant minds. It was not because they suffered with their heroes who suffer because of them, it was not because they understood or cared. It was simply because it added colour to their life; gave them something to gossip about, and someone to swoon over.  
  
They were pathetic and not worth the lives that had to be sacrificed to save them. But Dumbledore knew that no matter what he wanted, in the end the sacrifice would be made. No power on earth could challenge the supremacy of the Fates. No logic could outwit their mindless, senseless decisions, designed for ironic humour.  
  
The lives of thousands of fools and cowards against the lives of two innocent boys.  
  
Fate had chosen the masses.  
  
The people had chosen themselves.  
  
And the boys would choose the people.  
  
Destiny had been engraved in stone, and even the great Albus Dumbledore could do nothing to change it.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Draco sneered as he saw the red-gold Gryffindor dormitory.  
  
Red and Gold- the colours of nobility and splendor. His sneer became more prominent. Tired and irritated from the pointless time he had spent in Dumbledore's office, Draco was in no mood to be in a room of bright happy colours, housed by fools.  
  
No wonder his father had hated Dumbledore. The fool had pulled him out of mourning to tell him some stupid prophecy about Potter and an even stupider fairy-tale about the founders. He had given him a history lesson for no good reason...in fact, for no reason at all.  
  
How could such a powerful, ancient family like the Dumbledores lead to such a muggle-loving idiot??!! He had half the mind to tell the Dark Lord about the prophecy. After all, he was dying to know it's contents. But he hesitated. Dumbledore's outright senile stupidity was just another proof that his father was wrong. Blood didn't always bear greatness.  
  
He stalked over to one of the beds and plopped down on it. He looked up and as he saw Potter pull of his shoes, something struck him and he decided to charge Potter with it...  
  
"I know you felt the power too," he said simply, but with force. "The old coot isn't telling us something."  
  
Harry's head snapped up, and his eye's hardened, but as Harry knew, not in Dumbledore's defense but in resentment towards Malfoy. "Yeah well it's probably because of you.... I mean how can you except anyone to trust a git like you?"  
  
"Watch yourself Potter...remember, you are meant to die...so I think I'm probably the one who is going to kill you....and your muggle-loving fool of a Headmaster won't be able to stop me when I do....take good care of yourself little baby!" Draco smirked, and vanished behind the curtains of Neville's bed. As Draco pulled up the bed sheet and closed his eyes, he thought he heard Harry mutter, "Kill me and do me a favour Malfoy."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The tall oak doors creaked open and Harry walked into the Great Hall. His eyes swept over the head table, taking in the new faces seated there- Hagrid, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and Flitwick. He walked up to them and sat down on the only vacant seat- beside Malfoy. Draco scowled but said nothing. The others just smiled sadly and continued with their breakfast.  
  
Only Dumbledore spoke, "Good morning Harry...I was just telling Mr. Malfoy that since you were both tired yesterday, I did not finish my story, but today after breakfast, I would like you to rejoin me in my office, where I will continue. For the time being...tuck in!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry was looking at him with a guarded expression- a strained blank façade. He was cautious, taking care to not show what he was thinking. Dumbledore was sure he suspected, and was mildly surprised that he had not said anything.  
  
Draco on the other hand looked uncomfortable, although he seemed to be making a conscious effort to hide it. He was distracted, that much was evident. "That can be fixed. Just wait until I finish telling you my little story..." thought Dumbledore with a sort of detached morbidity.  
  
"Long ago, even before mortal men and women learned about magic, there was a special breed of people called Omega. The Omega were the first to know of and use magic. They did not indulge in the normal sorcery that we normal wizards practice. Their magic was stronger and more powerful...but they were untrained. They did not know what their powers were- their nature, theoretical analysis, or significance. Bu they did know how to use them and what their consequences were.  
  
"Everything in the universe has raw magic in the-the stars, the moon, the earth and the elements. A small amount of this magic resides in witches and wizards. However, the amount in them is so minute that they need a conduit to channel the magic. This is of course their wands. The Omega, on the other hand, possess a greater proportion of raw magic. They can channel magic directly from the universe, especially from the elements...  
  
"Sometime during the course of time Omega blood had mixed with the Gryffindor and Slytherin line through marriage. Do you know what this means?" Draco slightly inclined his head and Harry just stared, his expression still blank. Dumbledore felt a pang. Harry had understood. Mentally shaking himself, he continued, "This means that the heir of Gryffindor and the second heir of Slytherin shall have both the power of the Dracenas Parcentium charm and the ancient magic of the Omega...In my opinion, no mortal man should have wield such power. But the Fates have chosen it's two new victims, and have conveyed the identity of the second through yet another prophecy..."  
  
He went to the cupboard in the corner, and took out the pensive. He placed it on his table, and then stirred it with his wand. The same white figure rose out of the swirling white liquid-like substance. Dumbledore told them to be quiet and to listen to what she had to say.  
  
She opened her mouth and spoke once more, but this time, she said something different. She said "  
  
"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies...by his side will stand HIS BLOOD BROTHER AND CLOSEST ALLY... he will be born during the first full moon of the fourth month...BORN TO SERVITUDE TO DARKNESS, HE SHALL STAND BY THE SAVIOUR OF THE LIGHT...RAISED TO PURSUE HIS FATHER'S PATH, HE SHALL DEFY HIS CUSTOM...AND FIND HIS TRUE HERITAGE... he will fulfill the secret power which will destroy the evil..."  
  
WHEN IT SEEMED AS IF DUMBLEDORE WOULD SAY NO MORE, DRACO SPOKE UP, "THAT WAS A FASCINATING STORY HEADMASTER, BUT WITH ALL DUE RESPECT, WHY ARE YOU TELLING US THIS?" WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS? THOUGHT DRACO. AREN'T BED TIME STORIES FOR POTTER?  
  
Dumbledore visibly sighed. The time had come for the revelation of Fate. "Harry, Draco, you two are the heirs..."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Harry, Draco, you two are the heirs..."  
  
Draco's temper suddenly flared. The crazy old man had just wasted two days of his precious life for some ridiculous and absolutely lame joke. What was wrong with the git? Didn't he have something better to do? Like plan a resistance against the Dark Lord, or dote on Potter?  
  
Draco suddenly realized that he was clenching his teeth and was griping the chair in a death grip. He immediately relaxed his muscles and tried to calm his anger. "That was not a very funny joke, Headmaster," he said coldly.  
  
"It was no joke at all,"  
  
Draco looked up and saw Dumbledore's grave face studying him sadly. In his silent hysteria, he turned his head, expecting some kind of support from Potter. But to his surprise he had not reacted at all. He was not angry (not that this was a waste of time for him. Potter, after all didn't have anything better to do anyways), but he did not seem as if he took as a joke either.  
  
Were these people actually serious? Was Potter actually idiotic enough to believe that, or was he in on this lame joke as well? Suddenly Draco's anger deflated and was replaced by humour. God, these people were so lame!! He felt laughter bubbling within him. He tried to suppress it, but it was in vain. In a split second Draco was on the floor laughing his heart out.  
  
Potter and Dumbledore weren't that bad. They were actually quite funny when they weren't busy flaunting their self-righteous sermons in his face. Clutching his side and gasping for breath, Draco managed to splutter, "F-f- funny – joke – S-s-sir –"  
  
Dumbledore knelt by his side and looked him somberly. "As I have said before, Draco, this is no joke."  
  
Draco somehow calmed himself down, sat up and looked from one grave face to the other. They really did not seem as if they were joking – the haunted look in Potter's eyes was impossible to fake. He suddenly felt a rush of panic. What if what the git had said as true? What is he truly was the heir of Slytherin?  
  
He looked sideways at Potter. The subtle lines of stress and determination set hard around his eyes provided him with the conformation that he hoped he would not get. Sighing, Draco dropped down on his chair.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Harry, Draco, you two are the heirs..."  
  
Harry stared at the table in front of him. He had expected something like this the moment Remus had come to pick him up. After all, from what he knew of Dumbledore, he never did anything without a valid reason; and he definitely would not have removed him from his family's protection to tell him some silly story.  
  
Harry's Fate was sealed.  
  
But somehow Harry could not bring himself to care. He had already known his destiny; he just hadn't known what had led to it.  
  
Malfoy was laughing like a crazed lunatic somewhere on his left.  
  
Malfoy.  
  
His Fate was inter-related with Malfoy's. Did it matter?  
  
No.  
  
Sirius was dead...he could not change that. But he would avenge him. He would avenge his death, he would avenge his twelve years in hell and he would avenge his childhood at Grimauld Place.  
  
Harry would be the weapon he was born to be.  
  
Voldemort would pay.  
  
How or with whom he would do it, he did not care. If his partner was to be Malfoy, then be it...  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
By Psycho Fascist  
Illusions  
Last Bench  
Silhouette of Death 


	3. Strangers

Chapter 2: Strangers  
  
The shimmering golden light flooded in through a crack in the polished wooden window. The gleaming ray glided across the cold, stone floor, illuminating the thinning clouds of dust, which were floating in the warm air of dawn. The red and gold drapes glowed with a subtle sparkle, extenuating their rich texture. A light, fleeting breeze sailed in, fluttering the heavy curtains in their silky softness.  
  
A pale, white face lay silhouetted against the white, linen bed-sheet, his flaxen hair swimming in the bright sunlight. Draco opened his eyes slowly, and sat up. For a minute he did not recognize his surroundings...what had happened to his room?...then it all came back to him in a rush of memories.  
  
He was in school- the Gryffindor dormitory...with Potter.... The Charm...Omega...the prophecies...his parent's death...the heir of Slytherin...it all engulfed him now.  
  
The back of his eyes prickled and his throat felt dry...he was overcome with weakness...almost...  
  
He shook himself...he could not afford to be weak...his father hated weakness...he had to make his father proud of him...he had to be his father's son...his father was his hero...his parents had been brave...both were heroes...they had died serving a cause...serving the Dark Lord...they were on the right side...they had worked a died for the good of the magical world- to purge it of the filth of mudbloods.  
  
But then the crazy, old git Dumbledore had said that the Dark Lord himself was a half-blood...his parents had bowed before a half-blood to rid the world of half-bloods and mudbloods? How could that be true? His parents could not be hypocrites...they could never be blood traitors...or could they? Had they died in vain? Had they betrayed their kind? He could not believe it...would not believe it...did not want to believe it...  
  
People said many things...they said that his father was a traitor...that he tortured people just to hear them scream in pain...that it gave him pleasure to kill...to cause disorder and chaos...Draco remembered the blood in the dungeons...the screams which woke him up many times at night...was it all his father's doing?  
  
Well last night I saw you sneak out your window  
  
With your white hood, daddy What's that say about you?  
  
Were they right about his father?  
  
No! Of course not! Draco felt ashamed at his thoughts...how could he ever think otherwise about his parents? He knew them better than anyone else...he knew that they were brave people who had sacrificed everything for the good of the world...that crazy old fool and his faithful sidekick, Potter had no idea what they were talking about...  
  
In the back of his mind, Draco knew that he did no totally believe this...he really could not understand what was right and what was wrong...he was proud of his parents and he loved them...but it fluctuated...at times he was not sure what he felt for them...he did not want to admit it, but he felt scared now...alone and scared...and confused...he hated this feeling of being confused...of being unsure...  
  
His confusion turned to anger and he ripped the curtains away from around his bed. He got up and dressed. Casually he glanced towards Harry's bed and was surprised to see that Harry was gone. He thought that Harry would still be asleep. It seemed as if Potter had had a bad night...screaming out names, and tossing and turning...how could perfect Potter with his perfect life have nightmares?  
  
Pushing all thoughts of Harry out of his mind, Draco walked out through the portrait hole. He needed answers...he wanted answers...he needed to think about his problems...not Potter and his petty nightmares...who would he go to for answers...Who? ...certainly not Dumbledore...that senile old git who flaunted his stupidity at every chance he got....what about Snape?...No...Snape was a traitor...he had betrayed Draco's parents...Than it came to him  
  
Potter!...Of course! He would have no problems getting answers from otter, who always wanted to show of his knowledge in any case...and plus they were in this together no matter what...yes...he would talk to Potter...maybe...  
  
With this contradicting thoughts and half a mind to talk to Harry, Draco made his way towards the Great Hall. As he walked down the stone passageway, the ancient walls warm from the summer heat, Draco caught the faint fragrance of flowers wafting by with the heavy air. This made his think a bit...he had never really seen Hogwarts at summer...he glanced out the wide glass covered windows. The Quidditch pitch was carpeted with a thick layer of bright green grass, gently swaying in the wind...it looked...well...it almost looked...nice.  
  
His pleasant train of thoughts broke as he saw two of his least favorite people walking towards him- Dumbledore and Potter. Dumbledore smiled, "Good morning, Draco. We were just about to get you. I have something very important to talk to you about. Your training will start soon; and two of your instructors are due to arrive this morning...in fact they should be here anytime now.  
  
"After introductions I will take you to the room where you will commence your training..." here he was interrupted by the loud crashing sound made by the tall oak front doors, as two people walked in. The bright light that streamed into the room, blinded the two boys momentarily, making it hard for them to make out who he new arrivals were.  
  
A moment later the door was shut and they got their first glimpse of the visitors. Draco froze in his tracks and blinked, and Harry felt slightly surprised, as they both saw the wooden face, with the large chunk missing from the nose, and long grizzled hair falling all around it...the face of their ex-DADA teacher...Mad-Eye Moody! Beside Moody, looking quite as disheveled as him, stood a broad, square-jawed witch with very short, gray hair, and a monocle on her eye. Harry instantly recognized the forbidding looking woman to be none other than Madam Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  
  
He looked sideways at Draco, and saw him staring at Moody with a strange expression on his face...he nudged Draco, who snapped out of his trance like state. Draco looked at him and frowned. Then Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry saw him shoot a quizzical glance at Madam Bones.  
  
"That's Madam Bones," whispered Harry, "she's the Head of—"  
  
Here Draco interrupted him, "I didn't ask you, Potter. You can tell me when I do."  
  
Feeling immensely annoyed, Harry turned away.  
  
"Harry, Draco this is Alastor Moody, and this, "Dumbledore gestured towards the witch, "this is Madam Amelia Bones. They will be your main trainers, and your teachers will also take part in your training. I expect you will not give them or your teachers any trouble, and I trust you to treat them with utmost respect," this last part he said with a significant look towards Draco, who was staring at Moody rather insolently. "Now I would like you all to please follow me..."  
  
Grey hair fluttering in the warm breeze and lips set in a thin line, Amelia Bones walked stiffly down the ancient corridors, along with the others. Her short confident footsteps echoed on the rough solid walls. But behind that cool crisp exterior was the soft, caring mind of a woman.  
  
Despite her outward show of nonchalance she was worried. She had mentored many witches and wizards into skillful Aurors and had witnessed them battling death. Harry and Draco were half their age, but they were still expected to do the same. She inwardly shuddered at the very thought of two young children being forced to fight a battle which even grown witches and wizards feared to fight.  
  
She glanced sideways at Harry and Draco...Their faces were blank- expressionless. She inwardly shivered...why, she did not really understand. But maybe it was because of the unfairness of the situation- Harry and Draco were far too young to have this hard, cold maturity in them- they should not be so cautious...so guarded...as if protecting themselves from some unseen foe...Or may be it was because of the inevitability of it all- no matter how young they were, no matter how unfair it was, the lack of innocence was necessary for the Fate they were destined to face...or maybe it was because of he dark shadow that briefly flickered across Harry's clear emerald eyes, or the tinge of nervousness that clouded Draco's steely gray ones like a thin curtain of transparent mist....  
  
Was it fear she saw?  
  
But another glance at their sharp, chiseled faces, painted with focused calmness, Amelia was convinced otherwise...  
  
His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy  
  
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready -Eminem  
  
She had known their father very well, both professionally and personally. They had been men of extremes and it was a pity that they had also been men of irony...Identical in blood, power and wealth, with mirrored traits of bravery, dignity, and cunning, they had chosen different paths, each leading to the extremes of good and evil. They were on different sides of the war. One was right and was wrong. But in the end, they had both fought bravely for what they believed in...and died.  
  
Would their sons be able to do the same? Would they be able to battle with death like their fathers before them? Would they be able to survive, while their fathers had not?  
  
She stole a glance at them again. They were the split image of their fathers. But somehow they were very different from them. Their fathers never had the lines of stress scarring their faces like Harry and Draco, they did no have the intensity in their eyes or the fortified tightness of their muscles.  
  
Their fathers never had their maturity.  
  
No matter how great wizards they had been, no matter how grand responsibilities they had borne, they had maintained their naiveté till the end. They always had a simplified, black and white idea of good and evil. But Amelia thought their sons were different, and Amelia was usually right. Looking at their young yet experienced faces, Amelia had the impression of resigned acceptance of the reality of life and the shades of gray that coloured it.  
  
Yes. Their sons were different from them.  
  
They were strangers to her.  
  
They were men who would survive while their fathers had not.  
  
This time both the sons were right and the irony of Fate was lost.  
  
The bright red sun smiled down upon the land. Birds sat on the swaying tree- tops, their lulling songs drifting in the mild draft. Rainbow coloured flowers danced about in the sailing wind. Foams of fluffy white clouds floated around on the unmarred blue sky, playing a gleeful game of hide-and- seek. Nature was happy and peaceful.  
  
It feels so good to realize  
  
What's in yourself and within your mind Lets find peace there -Creed  
  
Peace.  
  
Harry had forgotten how that felt. Looking at the happiness around him, he felt anything but peaceful. It frustrated him. It made him feel trapped...he was trapped in his own mind. He was trapped by everything and everyone around him.  
  
Worst of all was that he was trapped alone...alone in a lonely shell of guilt, pain and...responsibility.  
  
Kill or be killed  
  
He felt claustrophobic. How will he defeat Voldemort?  
  
Darkness shall cover the land...  
  
And even if he did, how many lives will be lost before it.  
  
The will of people shall break  
  
All hope shall fail  
  
What price had to be paid?  
  
Not Harry! Please not Harry!  
  
Kill the spare  
  
Sirius is d—  
  
Kill me instead!  
  
The price was too high. But it would be worth it! Harry would make it worth it! He vowed to avenge every ruined life, every untimely death, and every drop of wasted blood.  
  
They would be the ultimate warriors  
  
He would be the weapon everyone expected him to be. He would Dumbledore's tool. He would make sure no one had to suffer the way he had, even if it meant his own destruction.  
  
I'm careless, I believe  
  
Above all the others we'll fly  
  
This brings tears to my eyes  
  
My sacrifice  
  
-Creed  
  
The power the Dark Lord knows not  
  
The secret power  
  
Now he knew that he had a chance of winning against Voldemort. He had a chance of defeating him.  
  
But he would not make the same mistake again. Never again will he let anyone get as close to him as Sirius had. He had hardened himself. It was for everyone's good...everyone who loved him died...while he survived...he could no take it anymore.  
  
He would not feel anymore. He would not love again. He just had to kill Voldemort, and avenge those he had ever loved- his mother, his father and Sirius.  
  
The power the Dark Lord knows not  
  
He does not understand love  
  
Your mother's love destroyed him  
  
How the Fate's laughed at the irony.  
  
The tall mahogany doors creaked open and the five people walked in. The room was enormous, with its wooden floor stretching for hundreds of meters. Thousands of books and strange looking equipment lined the white marble walls. Remus, McGonagall, and Flitwick were sitting in the far corner of the room, in comfy looking green sofas.  
  
"This is the ancient Training Room of Hogwarts." Said Dumbledore looking around the room. "It was originally built for the dueling practices between Slytherin and Gryffindor, when they had still been friends...you two shall be trained here, if you wish to of course..." Dumbledore looked expectantly at Harry and Draco.  
  
Two heroes shall emerge  
  
Kill the spare  
  
The ultimate warriors  
  
Sirius was d—  
  
The secret power  
  
"I do." said Harry almost fiercely.  
  
We've seen our share of ups and downs Oh! How quickly life can turn around In an instant -Creed  
  
Draco looked as if he was in deep thought. After a few tensed seconds, he nodded stiffly.  
  
Dumbledore looked quite pleased. "Your training shall start from ten o' clock tomorrow morning. Now I have something important to discuss with you teachers..."  
  
Taking the hint Harry and Draco stood up and left.  
  
Madam Bones watched silently as Dumbledore sat looking as if he was in deep thought. She vaguely wondered what he was thinking about when Alastor spoke up. He was gruff and impatient as usual.  
  
"Get on with it, Albus."  
  
Dumbledore looked up through his half-moon spectacle. He seemed to be contemplating on what to say. After a few seconds, he straightened in his chair and began, "Before the training begins, we should have a talk about your students. Harry and Draco are extraordina—"  
  
Moody interrupted him rather rudely, "We know Albus...I admit Potter's a decent lad; but I'm not so sure about the Malfoy boy. I still don't understand why we're training him. He's a death eater's son! He'll just turn against us and kill us all...I reckon old Trelawney made another false prediction..." He drew breath and looked expectantly at Albus. The other teachers, namely, Lupin, Flitwick and McGonagall, squirmed uncomfortably in their seats but no one spoke. After all, it was not everyday that someone so blatantly criticized Dumbledore.  
  
Moody's outburst was greeted by Dumbledore's calm gaze. He remained quiet and continued to watch, as if waiting for someone else to speak. When no one said anything and Moody started to look triumphant, Amelia spoke up.  
  
"Alastor, Draco is just sixteen. It's hardly fair to judge him now. You can not possibly say that he'll go running to You-Know-Who the first chance he gets."  
  
"Oh yes I can! He's Lucius Malfoy's son! The son of a Death Eater!!" Moody was excited. She observed a hint of his obsessive hatred towards Dark Wizards.  
  
"So you're judging him by his father are you?" said Amelia more coldly than she had intended. "I thought that was the sort of prejudice we fight against. Blood isn't supposed to matter." Why was she getting so defensive of the boy anyways?  
  
"Gah! You Wizengamont people are all the same! Blood doesn't matter when it comes to magic. Everyone is worthy of studying magic. But when it comes to character, blood most definitely matters! Like father like son."  
  
"Look at the Crouches. Father was the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and the son was a Death Eater. They had no similarities what so ever." said Amelia calmly.  
  
"There's where you're wrong. They chose different paths, but they were VERY similar. They both went for power. They were both determined, shrewd and devoted to their cause. Didn't have similarities, my foot!" Did she mention that Alastor also had an obsessive hatred for power-hungry people?  
  
"Draco is not like his father." Said Amelia stubbornly.  
  
"Even if he's not like his father, although I don't doubt that he is, he has his father's beliefs. Even you can't deny the power of upbringing."  
  
"Sirius defied his."  
  
"He was an exception."  
  
"So is Draco."  
  
"How do you know? You never even so much as talked to the boy!"  
  
Alastor was right of course, but Amelia was not about to give up. "I see the differences."  
  
"Oh do you now." He smirked. "Well, I see none." Growled Moody.  
  
Amelia raised her eyebrow and opened her mouth to retort, when Remus interjected. "May be should just watch for now. Give Draco a chance..." He trailed off as Moody and Bones both looked sharply at him.  
  
Dumbledore, who had remained quiet throughout the entire conversation, cleared his throat and spoke up in a clear hard tone. He looked a bit distant and regretful as he said, "The prophecies have spoken. Ironic as it is, two strangers shall be united. One will be redeemed and the other will find salvation...Fate has been unveiled and there is no one to question her..." No one said anything, although Moody and Bones continued to look mutinously at each other. Taking their silence as mutual agreement to end their argument, Dumbledore continued, "Now, lets move on to setting the curriculum..."  
  
Harry and Draco walked along the corridor side by side, each immersed in their own thoughts. Suddenly Draco stopped and turned to face Harry. He leveled his gaze with Harry's and said, "Having trouble sleeping, Potter?" Draco flashed a grin at him, and his eyes glinted, although they lacked their usual malice. There was only a hint of genuine curiosity.  
  
Unfortunately, Harry who had far too much on his mind did not notice this subtle change. His features tightened and he snapped at Draco. "What do you mean, Malfoy? Or is this another of your brainless remarks with which you're trying to provoke me?"  
  
"You wish, Potter...I'm just mentioning it because your whiny screams didn't let me sleep last night..." Draco raised his voice to a high pitch, "No! Not Sirius! Mom! Dad! No! Let them go! Please not Cedric!" Draco doubled up with laughter. And Harry shot him a dark look of barely concealed disgust and malice. However, even through his amused hilarity, Draco noticed something else...was it sadness? Hurt? Pain? He unconsciously stopped laughing as he contemplated the look in Harry's eyes, more seriously then he would like to admit.  
  
His eyes betrayed what his face had thus far concealed.  
  
Then Draco seemed to realize that he was actually spending his precious time feeling something akin to sympathy towards Potter. Ashamed of himself, he pushed these disturbing thoughts out of his mind, just in time to hear Harry speaking again.  
  
"You can laugh all you want, Malfoy...I mean, what would you know about love? If your mother loved you, then she wouldn't have that disgusted look on her face when you're around."  
  
Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Harry cut his off, "You can mock me Malfoy. I honestly don't care anymore. But don't you dare mock those who have died...I loved them. But you won't understand that anyways." Harry finished, his voice as cold and sharp as the edges of a finely chiseled diamond, and stalked off in the opposite direction.  
  
Draco watched Harry's retreating figure and wondered about what he had said. He knew that they were meant as petty insults- taunts that were meant to provoke, not hurt, but hurt they did.  
  
There was more truth to Harry's words then he had known.  
  
Was it true? He understood that his parents had given him everything that he had ever wanted, every object that he had ever wished for. They had spoiled with all the showering bounties of luxury...it had seemed to him that his parents had loved him...it had seemed so...  
  
Father... In your thoughts forsaken me In your heart forsaken me In your eyes forsaken me...  
  
But was it really love? After all, their "love" had always exposed itself in the form of materialistic goods, never in the shape of heartfelt emotions... Their love was always superficial... This made him wonder. Had his parents really felt for him, or was it all merely an obligatory provision of materials instigated by the mandatory duties of parenthood?  
  
His father, who was his hero and idol, had always meant everything to him...but he had never...well to tell the truth...his father had never been his friend. Look at the Weaselys. They were poor, unsophisticated blood traitors; but despite it all, they seemed to be a happy family... They seemed to be friends...  
  
Was that what love was all about? To know each other? To spend time together? Draco mentally snorted. If that was so, then his parents had definitely NOT loved him. They were always too busy with work, and politics. They never talked to him. They had conversations, verbal interactions, yes. But they never really talked to him. And they definitely did not spend time with him, except for the times where they taught him manners and etiquette, that is...  
  
But the Weasleys, on the other hand, always seemed to have time for each other...What would it have been like if had Weasley as his father, Draco wondered silently...  
  
Then may be he would not have spent all those lonely nights, wishing, hoping for a bit of attention from his parents...then maybe he would not have spent all that time wondering around, lost and scared in a cold, empty castle...then maybe he would not have spent his childhood, crying for a bit of care...  
  
Father... Trust in my self-righteous suicide I cry when angels deserve to die...  
  
It wasn't like he still felt bad about it now. And it wasn't like he was jealous of the Weasleys or anything. He would never be jealous of the Weasleys of all people! He was a Malfoy, after all. He was above all that.  
  
But he couldn't help but wonder if Potter was right. Draco suddenly realized what he was thinking, and was amazed at himself...how could he, even for a minute, believe that Potter could be even close to be being right??!! Potter couldn't know anything about love...he didn't even have parents.  
  
But he has friends. Said a treacherous voice at the back of mind. Even though Potter had friends like that know-it-all mudblood Granger and crude, pauper Weasley, their friendship was a mutual relationship of shared respect. They all liked each other...  
  
It wasn't like Draco didn't have "friends". He had many people fawning all over him, and worshiping the ground he walked on, but he didn't care about them...not one bit...they were a waste of time...he just put up with them for the sake of maintaining his father's "political alliances". Those blubbering idiot, who followed him around all over the place, were nothing but pawns in a vicious cycle of power struggle. They were inferior to him. He was a Malfoy. He needed someone who was an equal, to be friends...  
  
These thoughts were giving him a headache. He blinked and shook his head, as if to clear his mind, only to realize he was standing on the Quidditch Pitch.  
  
The Quidditch Pitch.  
  
Flying.  
  
That was where he belonged. Flying across the blue sky, relishing the touch of the snug, warm summer air, on his face. He loved souring above the lucid sapphire lake, glinting and swaying in a rhythmic ballet of azure crystalline water. The freshness and freedom of the altitude washed away his worries, in a gust of purifying draft.  
  
I want a break, and want to put this stress aside But above all things I want to lay by the Oceanside The ocean waves, no other way, get away Well I'm finding! Oh no, my daily worries want to drift away, Fine! Dying and trying just to find some sort of peace of mind Now's the time, to get away, I'm going away -Authority Zero  
  
  
  
Moody and Amelia sat in front of Dumbledore's desk, sipping cups of tea. They had just finished setting the curriculum for Harry and Draco's extra training lessons. Now, after a tiring day, they were finally enjoying a peaceful time in each other's company. Even with the pressure of the war and the surrounding darkness, all three of them felt happy and content to be with old friends. Just as Moody was about to take another sip from his cup, a tawny owl flew in through the open window. It landed swiftly in Dumbledore's shoulder and extended its legs for the attached letter to be removed. Dumbledore took the letter and unfolded it. As he finished reading the letter, a slight smile formed on his lips. He looked up and said, "It's from Remus...She has arrived safely, and will soon be joined by her friend..."  
  
Moody and Amelia smiled.  
  



End file.
